'Well, I think you had better return to your Low Country women.' It was the only excuse I could think of as I turned my head, unable to take my gaze from the fearfully disfigured Captain Buchanan. My poor, brave George, putting himself in danger of such a fate!
Pinning up the train of my dress to show I was available for other men to ask to dance, I finished the contents of my punch glass at a single foolish swallow, turned with a flourish and walked away. I hoped George watched me as I swung my hips to show that I was as desirable as any Dutch woman. Thank you, Mrs Macfarlane, I thought, as I caught a glimpse of his gaze concentrating on that part of me that I swivelled the most.
I had no desire to hurt him, I only wanted time to think, and if I invoked jealousy in one or both of us, we
